


Shout It From the Rooftops

by mrsvc



Category: Shake It Up!
Genre: M/M, episode coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-04
Updated: 2012-06-04
Packaged: 2017-11-06 19:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/422271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsvc/pseuds/mrsvc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deuce couldn't sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shout It From the Rooftops

**Author's Note:**

> Coda to the "Break It Up" episode. Unbeta'd.

Deuce couldn't sleep. Ty was sacked out in the twin bed next to him, surprising considering it was his sister in the hospital. The air here was thinner than in the city, less opaque, but more humid. He could smell the algae in the air from the lake, and a gentle breeze ruffles the curtains in the open window. That gave Deuce an idea, and he flipped the covers off his legs, headed towards the sill. To the right was a strong piece of lattice, extending from the ground to the roof, and he shook it a little to rest its strength. It was bolted to the siding of the house, and Deuce swung outside and climbed to the roof.

He laid out on the shingles, still slightly warm from the summer sun, and watched the stars. They were far enough from the city here that there were more stars than Deuce had ever seen, and the sky was an inky blue. He felt idiotic after the way he had panicked when Rockie had gotten hurt. He's just glad that Ty was able to keep it together, but it doesn't stop him from being angry at himself. He feels too young, his skin too tight for the sharp edge of disappointment running underneath it.

"Hello, Deuce," Gunther said breathless, heaving himself over the ledge.

"What are you doing up here?" Deuce sighed, hands folded over his stomach.

"I could see you from our window, and thought I'd join you."

"Thought you'd come wallow in my misery?" Gunther crawled up next to him, lean and graceful as befitting a dancer, and Deuce watched as he flopped over, sitting with his knees drawn up to his chest.

"That would be Tinka. She hates you, you know."

"I'm aware."

Gunther frowned at him. Deuce could feel him watching, his gaze a strange, prickling presence to Deuce's left. "Deuce, I had thought that we were friends."

"Yeah," he snorts in disbelief. "If you could stop making fun of us at every turn, yeah, maybe we'd be friends, Gunther."

Gunther looked itchy and uncomfortable, so he laid down on his back beside Deuce, elbows brushing when they breathed. It was getting colder, the wind picking up, and they were both in tank tops and thin sleep shorts. Gunther licked his lips, and said, "it was hard to come to America." Deuce twisted his head to look at him. "Not only to leave our parents, you know. It was hard to leave our family, but it was hard to come here by ourselves, too. We were made fun of, for our accents, because we liked dance. People were just jealous of my command of fashion." Gunther ran a hand down his body and Deuce laughed, noticing the sequins sewn into the collar of his shirt. "So, this was easier."

Deuce turned that over his head for awhile, thinking about stories his parents told him of how hard it was to come to America themselves; how everyone had sneered at their imperfect English, or ostracized them because they were different. "It was easier to make them hate you, then to try and make people love you?" he guessed. Gunther shrugged his shoulders non-commitedly. Deuce figured that was understandable. He knew that the Hessenheffers weren't very popular at school either, and that upstaging Rockie and CeCe was practically the only place they could get ahead. It didn't make it right, but he could see the appeal. "We're the closest things you guys have to friends, aren't we?"

Gunther reached over and punched him lightly in the shoulder. Deuce knew it was a deflection, so he punched back. It devolved quickly into just their arms knocking into each other, and they settled into a rhythm, their knuckles bluffing gently off each other. "Rockie's going to okay, right?" Deuce asked.

Gunther stopped their little game, and wrapped his long fingers around Deuce's wrist. "She's going to be fine. I heard Mrs. Jones talking to Rockie's mom. She'll dance again. She'll never be as good as us-" Deuce hits him again, using his own hand against him. "But she'll dance as good as she ever did."

That's the closest Gunther is ever going to get admitting that he likes Rockie out loud, so Deuce allowed it, allowed Gunther to roll onto his elbow and look down at him. "Tell me again."

Gunther's accent was deeper, more loose and natural, and Deuce felt the muscles in his stomach flutter and tighten. "Rockie's going to be fine." It helped that it was not a grown-up, whose job it is to lie to kids, or Ty, who had to keep a brave face for his mom and sister. Deuce believed Gunther, nodded his head as Gunther leaned forward. "Are you going to stop me?"

Deuce thought it should probably panic, but instead he just felt a giddy anticipation, a desire in the deep of his chest to close the space between them, and made a fake thoughtful look. "No, I don't think I am."

Gunther breathed out, relieved, and bent down the rest of the way to place his lips against his. Deuce parted his lips, let Gunther suck gently on the bottom one, before he darted his tongue out to ease across the seam. Gunther let Deuce lick inside, taste the sharp tang of fresh toothpaste, and Deuce ran a hand along Gunther's neck.

Gunther collapsed against Deuce's chest a little, and they broke apart. "At the fire, you said Tinka."

"Huh?" Deuce's eyes were still closed, and he licked the lingering taste of Gunther from his lips.

"Ty asked you who you'd want to kiss, and you said Tinka."

Deuce almost laughed, wondered how Gunther could still be insecure with Deuce's fingers still wrapped in the fabric of his tank. "Well, she looks the most like you, doesn't she?"

Gunther smiled. Deuce loved the crinkles around his eyes, the lines around his mouth. Gunther rolled onto his back, shoulder bumping against Deuce's, and they stared up at the stars again. Deuce snaked his hand down Gunther's arm and twisted their fingers together. Rockie was going to be fine, and so were they.


End file.
